


Car Porn.  Seriously.

by thecheekydragon



Series: Car Porn [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Touch, Betty - Freeform, Bumper Humping, Car Porn, Jeemaro - Freeform, M/M, POV Stiles, Vehicular Humping, Weremobile, it's obvious Stiles is the boss in this relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecheekydragon/pseuds/thecheekydragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dude.  Is your Camaro <i>humping</i> my Jeep?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Car Porn.  Seriously.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something I've been wanting to write forever but never seemed to get a round to. So finally, here it is.
> 
> Inspired by [THIS](http://flexideon.tumblr.com/post/43975533431/jeemaro-animation)

“Dude. Is your Camaro _humping_ my Jeep?”

Stiles blinks, certain that his eyes are playing tricks on him. He can’t possibly be seeing what he’s seeing. No way.

He shakes himself, waiting for the reality check to kick in. But nope. That’s definitely his Jeep. And that’s definitely Derek’s Camaro doing something unspeakably nasty to Stiles’ beloved Betty.

 _Bad touch!_ he wants to yell at the weremobile but he’s too busy gawking at the sight before him, his reaction hovering somewhere between outright disgust and total fascination.

Derek grunt-mumbles something beside him then yanks Stiles by the hoodie to pull him along, away from the gratuitous display of car porn. And hey, there’s something Stiles never would have guessed would become part of his thought-vocabulary.

He gets a text from Scott ( _meet at clinic bring Derek_ ) as he tries to shake the NSRL (Not Safe for Real Life) image of the bumper-humping going on behind Derek’s loft, feeling utterly violated. He side-eyes Derek, whose gaze is firmly fixed on the pavement. Derek’s refusal to look at him is so obvious it makes Stiles want to laugh, but he knows that if he does, he’s likely to get his throat ripped out with fangy-teeth (at the very least Derek will shove him – freakishly hard – into the next brick building they pass) so he stifles the urge in the name of self-preservation.

They meet up with Scott, Isaac, Allison, Lydia, Boyd and Peter at the clinic. Apparently, sexy times between vehicles are not the only strange and perverted shenanigans afoot in the supernaturally-infested town of Beacon Hills. Stiles listens carefully as Deaton explains how “recent events” (he actually uses air quotes which Stiles thinks is appropriate to umbrella the decidedly weird shit that includes vehicular humping) are the result of a spell cast by a group of faeries passing through town (and, really, why can’t the supernaturally-gifted just pass through and be done with it instead of wrecking havoc along the way?). The spell, Deaton elaborates, hooks onto the deep desires of those enchanted and those desires are then manifested through objects, usually those prized by the one enchanted. Stiles nods. This explains Scott and Isaac’s lacrosse sticks getting a little frisky and Lydia’s Rafael Youngs wanting to get more acquainted with Allison’s cross-bow. But how does that explain...

“Oh my God!” Stiles bursts out and Derek starts to fidget uncomfortably beside him. He runs Deaton’s spiel back through his head: _The spell hooks onto the deep desires of those enchanted...manifested through objects prized by the one enchanted._ He pictures Derek’s Camaro humping his Jeep. Did this mean...

...holy God that _Derek wants to hump Stiles?_

Derek must sense the moment it clicks for Stiles because suddenly he stands, looking toward the exit, getting ready to bolt. “Oh no, you don’t!” Stiles yells at him, jabbing his finger at the alpha werewolf in a ‘stay right where you are or else’ gesture. The others scramble as fast as they can to get the hell out, including Deaton. Only Peter lingers, until Stiles throws a glare at him, and then he leaves, huffing out a sigh as he goes. 

Derek sits back down and exhales a loud breath - the sound of the long-suffering - which Stiles thinks is unfair and rather dramatic (like uncle, like nephew). It’s his Betty who’s been violated, after all.

“Look,” Stiles says, keeping his eyes on the ‘Your Guide to Responsible Pet Ownership’ poster on the wall across from them, “as much as I’d rather poke my eyes out with a stick, we’re talking about this.” 

“Stiles...”

“Don’t _Stiles_ me, you pervy Camaro-owning wolf!” Stiles turns to look at Derek, deciding to go the ripping-off-the-bandaid-without-a-count-of-three route. “Do you or do you not want to hump me?”

Derek’s expression looks pained. He casts his eyes to the ceiling and then to the floor, huffs out a sigh, then settles his gaze on Stiles. “If I say yes, will you let it drop and let me leave?” he finally grits out through his teeth.

Stiles gapes at him. Was this Derek’s round-about way of admitting he wanted to get all up in Stiles’ human bumper? Wow. Stiles really hadn’t been expecting this. He had expected Derek to deny it, to try to explain his Camaro’s perverted assault of Stiles’ Jeep as something ridiculous, despite what Deaton had said. 

But. 

_Damn_.

He allows himself almost a full minute to gloat before he tells Derek, “Yeah, sure. I’ll drop it. But there’s _no way_ you’re leaving here now that I know you want to hump my bumper.”

Stiles winks at him and Derek rolls his eyes. He’d say it wasn’t sexy but, who was he kidding, Derek’s brand of eye-rolling was always totally off-the-chart sexy. He grabs Derek’s hand and yanks him to his feet. Stiles then leads Derek into the back room of the clinic where they engage in mildly kinky role play, sparing only thirty seconds to argue about who gets to be the Camaro and who gets to be the Jeep. 

It’s utterly and gloriously perfect. Yeah, so maybe the cats housed in the cages in the back room are a little traumatized by the car porn re-enactment but they’re cats, okay? They’ll get over it.


End file.
